Redeemed
by Scheherazade Nabokov
Summary: When Siegfried destroys Soul Edge, chaos still runs rampant thoroughot the world while he tries to find salvation. Twist of the beginning cut scene, what happens when the sword is not as mighty as it may seem? What if the key to salvation is a touch of fa
1. Encounter

A/N: Ok, this is my attempt at writing Siegfried's view of things after he destroys Soul Edge in Soul Calibur III, you know, that one scene where he stabs Soul Edge with Soul Calibur? This is where I got the inspiration for this fic, near the end, when he swings out his sword, what is it that he see? I wonder… ; and so this came out.

Chapter 1 -- Encounter

The quiet in the forest gave a paranoid feel to the knight as his armor clanked through the deep green foliage of the place. His pace was quite slow, as the heat of the sun shone through the leaves and gave a humid and stuffy feel to the whole atmosphere. His damp, sweaty hair hung over his eyes like a light veil that prevented him from seeing the truth and the atonement that he looked for. He trod on the soft earth, the twigs cracking under the weight of his heavy armor. The steady hum of insects and the twittering of birds were all that came from the forest.

The earth had shaken a few moments before when the holy sword, Soul Calibur, had laid rest to the dark sword known as Soul Edge. He felt a surge of pride and a feeling of relief. It seemed that now, everything was once again in place; everything was what it was like before any evil had seeped through and invaded the human mind, creeping them and haunting them until they had gone insane and went on a killing rampage.

The old and dusty chapel that he had destroyed the accursed sword laid in peace. Both Soul Calibur and Soul Edge had lost their luster, their old power that had radiated both evil and light the moment holy had met demonic. On the outside, it looked like a normal little church that had foliage grown over it from neglect and weather. The stained glass seemed to glisten still though, through the small amounts of light that the forest let in at times, it shone and sparkled like a diamond in the rough.

But on the inside, it was a different story, it had become obvious that neglect had made this once proud little church fall down. Within the sturdy stone walls, greenery bedecked the once neat and clean walls, giving it an unwashed and dismal feel. A thin sheet of dust rested on everything it touched, the air gave off a stuffy feel to it. The air within the walls was humid from the greenhouse like effect that the room gave. The once proud little benches that people had kneeled upon to worship were now crumbling to the effect of moss and other things that like to eat away at the wood, just as time like to nibble away at human lives.

The little church had survived much, and the test of time would try it again as within the walls of the place of worship, it housed the dust accumulating form of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur entwined, as one large mass, deep cracks ran from across the whole of the ground and almost all the way to the walls of the church. The dark aura of the evil sword and the pure clean power of the holy one twisted themselves together to form peace, and the two swords waged their war between themselves, never to bother humans again... hopefully….

Siegfried had left the chapel moments ago; feeling elated, but suddenly, a feeling of foreboding overcame him. It was as if some dark energy had decided to settle itself over him, it was as if the Nightmare half of him still existed somewhere deep within him. He had thought himself free from the grasp of that demon that had used his body as a host; he had thought he was finally able to live a life as a normal human.

But that couldn't be done. The memories of everything that happened to him while he was being possessed by Nightmare made him shudder. It brought back the faint and distant memories that kept on slipping past his hands like trying to hold water within cupped hands. Memories of evil deeds that he had done for the love of bloodlust, the memories that would always elude him as he wasn't awake during those times, and the memories of the bloody, parentless children that the Azure Knight had left behind to die while laughing, everything that he had done as Nightmare would forever haunt him. He wanted to be forgiven for the things he had done, of course he knew that there was no way for that to be done. All the sins that he had committed could never be forgiven.

He was lost in thought as he walked, not really noticing this surroundings as the soft clanking of his armor was one of the few sounds in the forest's eerie green light that the leaves shed as the sun shone past them. It was all of a sudden when a pain shot through his sword arm, a great and stabbing pain, as if a hot knife was slicing through his very flesh. Clenching it tightly and grinding his teeth to block out the worst of the hurting, he looked down at his hand and the sight of the claw that once belonged to him flashed at him for a moment, sending a wave of nausea through him. He almost wanted to faint at the horrendous sight; but just as he was, about to, the scene disappeared from him and he once again saw his own, gauntleted hand.

Beyond this forest and the quiet it delivered, the feel of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur being destroyed was felt throughout the world. People either rejoiced or they mourned. Servants of the dark sword grew angry while the worshipers of the holy cried out in jubilation. Even if the sword had been destroyed, wars continued, the Azure Knight still carried shards of the sword within his heart, and the same went with other people within the world. It now became a goal to many to find the shards of the legendary sword and either purify them or use the above said shards to cause the same chaos as The Azure Knight has.

The quiet cheeping of birds was a small comfort to the big knight's now paranoid state. His mind wracked at him, fighting within itself on what to do next and what not to do. Part of him wanted to commit suicide to make sure that he would never be used again, another wanted to go home and see his mother, whether she was alive or not still was a question that he didn't want answered, and yet still another part wanted him to wander the world and rectify anything that was wrong and commanded him to be a defender of freedom and justice. After all, wasn't that what a knight was truly about?

He inwardly sighed as he continued to tread upon the soft dirt path that. Wait, what was that sound? A twig cracking? It couldn't have been a deer, he would have heard it from far away, A rabbit? No, it couldn't have been. A person perhaps? Possibly, but he highly doubted that someone would come this way, unless they aimed to kill him. There, there it was again. That sound, another twig cracking, there, another one, and another. He could here footsteps now, footsteps that were coming at him at a fast pace; that was it; someone was obviously out to kill him for destroying Soul Edge.

There, a figure, one that was running towards him; within a moment, his Requiem was out and poised ready above the small figure that had hurled itself out of the foliage and onto the path that the knight walked. What he found beneath the blade however, was something Siegfried did not expect: the figure of a scared little boy who looked up onto his blade as if he had seen the god of death himself.

This was an unexpected turn of events for the knight to say the least. Here, he thought he would find an assassin of sorts, only to see the huddled figure of a boy who was on the verge of tears. Of course, this boy could well be an assassin in disguise, but the knight doubted it. The way the youth dressed and the mental distress he was in told him blatantly that he was afraid of Siegfried. He returned his sword back to its sheath and knelt down to examine the scrawny little thing before him.

The youth was dressed in rags, he couldn't have been older than perhaps eleven or twelve, it was obvious that he came from a poor family from the shape of his frame, his clothes and how skinny he was; soot covered his face and his hands, making him look dirty and unwashed, his breathing came out in quick, shallow breaths. It was plain as day to anyone that this little urchin had been running from something that had scared him quite well. His hair was also dusted finely with a layer of ashes and soot. If washed, it could well have been a nice, straw blond color.

A single tear washed a track down the little boy's place before he began to sob before the knight, his cries, startling the birds and the other fauna that might have been in the vicinity. The high pitched cry of his voice hurt the knight's ears as he tried to comfort the boy down.

"There, there…" he said, trying to make his voice sound sincere and kind, only it made him sound more commanding as he placed his armored hand down on the boy's shoulder.

This action only caused the boy to wail even louder; wincing at the boy's loud laments, the knight tried again to calm down the boy, "Please…." He said, his voice earnest now, "Please calm down, I can't help you if you keep crying like this…"

The child's crying slowly came to a stop until all that was left was his red eyes and hiccups that came up every now and then.

Seeing that he had succeeded in making the boy's racket stop to an extent, Siegfried moved on to the next step. "Ok, now are you going to tell me what's wrong boy?" He asked, looking at the youth with questioning grey eyes.

The boy nodded and pointed towards where he came from. "Please Mr. Knight!" He said in a hoarse voice from crying so much. "Please help my village!" He pleaded Siegfried.

Looking in the direction in which the boy pointed, the knight could see a thin trickle of smoke drift across the tops of the tall trees that blocked the view to the little boy's village. Bandit attack, no doubt about it, the smoke just reassured the man's suspicion, while this child survived, he had high doubts about, that this boy knew that his parents or whatever family members he had left were probably dead.

"Please Mr. Knight?" The boy asked, snapping Siegfried out of his reverie back to realities, the child's green eyes did the talking for him. "Mama says it's the Azure knight or something like that. She says that he's come to make sure the world don't rest in peace or somethin' like that."

At the words 'Azure Knight', Siegfried was on his feet. "Show me where you came from." He said simply. "Show me where the Azure Knight is."

Perhaps, this chance encounter with this young boy was to his advantage, perhaps, he could be redeemed from his sins after all. With the death of Nightmare, maybe then, he'd be allowed to live the life of peace that he sought after this whole ordeal. Maybe, this little boy could show him how to repent for everything he had done.

The Tale of Swords and Souls, continues, despite the destruction of the catalysts. This is where one tale begins, and may others will end.

Fin Chapter 1

A/N Ok! Here's the first chapter of my awesomely crappy series that I'll try to update every five reviews or so . Hope y'all like it. Criticism is encouraged. --- Ismaire


	2. Village

A/N—Ok, ignoring all the reviews that exist or don't, I present to you the second chapter because I've got nothing to do other than to plan. so enjoy y'all. Oh, I also noticed that Siegfried's eyes aren't grey… they're blue… so yeah, the rest of the story will have a blue-eyed Siegfried and not grey. Sorry for the confusion y'all.

Oops… ; forgot to put this on the first chapter…: DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THIS OTHER THAN THE STORY ITSELF! Ok, happy now?

Chapter 2—Village

The trip to the young child's village was a quick one. The knight had no concern for stealth at this moment. The question that loomed over his head at the current moment was how his other half could have survived the shock of the sword being destroyed. Questions ran though his head as he trampled past overgrown paths that had not been used until today by the little boy and himself. The air seemed to have suddenly chilled as the two ran, though it was a humid summer day, the mood brought forth a storm it seemed.

The foliage became hard to get through for Siegfried was at least twice the size of the boy. His requiem was needed to cut through the branches when it became hard for him to move around, stray thorns and what not caught in his hair as he ran. Cursing like a sailor, he swore to cut his hair the moment he got his chance to. His sword sang to the end of many wooden branches as he continued to press forward to the village. If this boy's words were true, if this little boy's words were true, the knight wondered; then what was the destruction of the sword for if his arch nemesis wasn't dead along with it?

He was so sick of being the evil one; he was tired of doing the bad deeds that everyone seemed to loathe. He sighed as he finally came to the end of the forest and the where the village was supposed to be. The sight before him wasn't exactly what he expected of a bandit raid to say the least. The scent of smoke and burning flesh filled his nostrils as he came close enough to see the damage that the fires had done.

Not one home had been spared from the carnage that the bandits had left. Not a living being seemed to be there, animals ran rampant in fear as the flame licked and played at their feet or hooves. The normally neat and tidy dirt paths were now covered in splotches of a sickening red color that was familiar to the knight. The deep crimson color of the life giving blood was upon the ground, showing places where death or near death had occurred. Bodies lay here and there, some dead, many dying. Screams could be heard from the ones that were being hurt at the moment.

This was too much for the knight all at once; it was just too much for him to take it all in. It was like reliving everything that he had just left; only he wasn't enjoying it. It was revolting, the bandits shouted loud and vulgar things at the other villagers that had tried to fight back but were struck down or killed by the above said ruffians.

One of them noticed the iron clad man and the little boy as he ran out of a little shack like house. Upon seeing the two, he let out a loud yell to inform that help had come along. Jeers and laugher came from the others as the scurried away from their barely strategic points of plundering.

"A bit late fer savin' a town ain't cha?" a bandit sneered as he ran off towards the gates of town.

The knight stood there, dumbfounded by the sudden fleeing of the ruffians. A small breeze blew across the small village, fanning the flames so that they danced higher and higher towards the sky. The knight sighed, no sign of the Azure Knight, so the kid was wrong. That was a relief so say at the moment; it at least meant he had achieved his goal in destroying what he had haunted him for the past years. For those long years, he had hidden within his soul, cowering in the corner where he couldn't be found like a little kid while the Evil within the sword took over his body, his mind, everything, until he was nothing but the little child who hid from everything it seemed.

Speaking of children, what happened to that kid who brought him here? The knight looked around as he noticed his temporary charge was missing. _"Great," _Siegfried thought to himself _"You can't even take care of one little kid, let alone yourself." _He scolded himself. Walking through the wreckage, he looked for the child. His parents would no doubt be worried about their son being gone.

"Sis!" A young child's voice came out from one dilapidated and fallen house. "Sis?" He shouted again, repeating the phrase for his sister as he wandered through the ashen and burnt village.

It was that boy again; that little scrap of human flesh that had brought the knight to this town. From the looks of it, he was looking for his sister. The child stopped as he spotted the knight once again.

"Mr. Knight!" He exclaimed, his eyes full of unwept tears. "Mr. Knight!" He shouted. "Please help me look for my sister!" He said his voice cracking.

Siegfried Squatted down to the child's level so that he could speak to this little one face to face. "Listen kid." He began. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I have no idea to look, you sister could be anywhere, she could have been taken by those bandits that had just-" He was cut off by the boy's protest.

"She can't be gone! They would never take her!" He shouted, drawing attention to the very few who were left behind. "She can't have been taken!" He said again, tears brimming at his eyes.

"Now what makes you think that?" The knight asked.

"''Cause!" The boy said defiantly. "Because they just can't have taken her, they just can't!"

"Listen to yourself boy." Siegfried said, shaking the youth's shoulders. "Snap out of it, it's possible that your sister isn't here. I'll help you find her, but you should know it's possible that she could be dead; or maybe taken hostage by those bandits." The knight explained.

"But ain'tcha a knight?" The boy asked innocently. "Can'tcha just go off on your white horse and bring her back? Isn't that your job?"

"I'm not that kind of knight." Siegfried admitted. "In fact… I don't…" The knight was once again cut off by a shout.

"Zet!" A woman shouted. "Zet! Are you alright?" the same woman shouted as

Like the child, she was covered with soot and ashes of the burnt remains of the village. Her chestnut brown hair that was streaked with small strands of grey was tied up in a tight bun. Worry was apparent in her eyes as she ran up to the child.

"Grand mama!" He exclaimed as he ran towards her. "Have you seen Lilac?" He asked. "I can't find her!"

His grandma shook her head. "Zet…" She said softly while combing her hand through his hair. "I think… you should go and see what can be salvaged."

"I don't care!" He said "That isn't my main worry! I want to know where Lilac is!" He was on the brink of tears again.

"Zet…" his grandmother said again. "I don't think you want to know where she is…"

"Yes I do!" He said defiantly, a tear leaking through one of his eyes. "Where is she? I want to know, now!" He demanded.

"You shouldn't demand something like that of your elders." Siegfried said as he walked over to the boy.

"But I want to know where Lilac is!" He said pouting.

Children... such innocence is amazing, didn't this kid get that something's bad has happened?

"Zet…" His grandmother whispered. "You really don't want to know."

"Is it so horrible?" Siegfried asked.

The grandmother nodded and whispered to him what had happened.

"I see…" He said. "He really doesn't need to see that." The knight agreed.

"I do too!" Zet cried out. "I wanna find out!"

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." The grandmother said. "Sir Knight? Could you go with him? I've already seen enough, and there are other things to do than to take care of a stubborn boy like that."

He nodded and agreed to follow the child as he searched for his sister. The confounded kid was already ahead of him by some distance, shouting out the name over and over again as if his life depended on it. Siegfried wondered to himself as he followed, looking over the burned and ruined remains of the village.

If it weren't for the heart wrenching smell of burning flesh and destruction, the little place would have been quite quant and homely. There wouldn't be anything amiss, nothing big came through and news came through gossip at the local tavern. He sighed as he looked at the ashen faces of those who had passed away, blood still slightly warm from the recent deaths and faces of terror or defiance still plastered on those of the dead. The knight closed his eyes and tried to push away those horrendous pictures out of his mind only to open his eyes to something that made the bile in his stomach rise.

There, knelt the young boy before a bruised and battered person. His were coming out long and in shuddering gasps, tears streamed down his face and to the slain person's skirt. The child's eyes were bloodshot as he looked upon the metal clad knight. In a small croak he spoke. "Mr. Knight… She isn't dead is she?"

One look at the little boy's face could have broken the heart of even the most hardened soldiers. The dirty, tear stained face was streaked again with a track of tears, teary and puffy eyes looked back at the warrior as if he held the last small ray of hope. The child had seemed to have lost all hope, he knew that the one before him was dead, but to believe the fact was another matter. _"It's best for him to get it straight, there's no way around it…" _the knight thought to himself.

"Kid…" He said in the kindest voice that he could muster, "there isn't much that you can do… she's g—"

"NO!" The child cried out clinging onto the metal clad leg of the knight. "She isn't! She can't be!"

"There's nothing you can do… There's nothing _I _can do…"

"Can't you? Aren't you a knight? Can't you like bring her back with your magic or something?"

"Kid…" the warrior said as he knelt down to the child's level. "There isn't any kind of magic to bring her back… all you really can do is just keep trekking and swallow those tears… ok?"

A fresh wave of tears and sobs came from the boy as he clung onto the silver clad man. As the boy cried on, the man could see the person that the youth had covered with his body. The sight was sickening to say the least. A girl, a youth who couldn't be any older than perhaps sixteen, her clothes had been ripped to shreds, barely covering her body, her thighs were bruised black and blue with a vicious color of purple that dotted the horrible sight before him. White seed from those who had raped her still lingered on her cold body. Slashes covered her neck and arms; blood was still half dried as she laid there; there was a look of utter disgust and terror was written across her face

"L-Li-Lilac…" The child sobbed.

The warrior grimaced at the sight. There was no need for someone this young to see such atrocities of the world. There was no need for this kind of pain to be inflicted to someone so young and innocent. Innocence. The word brought back memories of the man's childhood when evil wasn't all that his mind was concentrated on, when blood had yet to be splattered upon his face. He sighed, such days, were the days that he reminisced now, such days were the kinds of days that he wished he had cherished more.

He wished now, that he had never wanted revenge. Perhaps… perhaps it would have prevented this young one, and many others that he had not counted, the grief that he witnessed now. Perhaps, now was the time for him to make amends to the many wrongs. Yes, now was the time to make what was wronged right again. Now, he knew what his reason for living was now. It was to make amends to what was wrong, make amends to the broken and battered pieces of his soul.

The tale of souls, swords, and battle continues. This is only the beginning.


End file.
